Gallery Whispers

74

'Hi Dennis,' Karen called out as she stepped into the apartment. As her relationship with Wayne had developed, so the hemiplegic had become more friendly towards her.

'Evenin', Missy,' he greeted her, in broad Aussie tones. As always, when his attendant was going out for the latter part of the evening, he was in pyjamas and dressing gown.

'How's your research work going?' she asked him.

'It's everything I hoped it would be. I will leave Scotland a wiser man, and I'll bet you not too many people can make that claim.'

'Don't you be so cheeky,' she chided him. 'We've been exporting knowledge for a long time now. Come to think of it, that's all we've got left to export.'

'Hi.' Wayne's voice came from the bathroom door, at the far corner of the living area. She looked at him, with his newly trimmed beard and his bright shining eyes, and felt her stomach roll over with anticipation. As he walked towards her she noticed that his limp was almost gone.

'Ready for the off?' he asked.

She nodded. 'I've booked two seats for the ten o'clock screening out at the UCI. You quite sure you want to see Saving Private Ryani I've heard that the opening is one of the bloodiest things ever filmed.'

'We can close our eyes at the bad bits,' he suggested. 'Remember in Jaws, when they're looking over this wrecked boat and a head comes rolling out? God, I almost wet myself when I saw that; nothing can be any worse.'

'How are we going to know which are the bad bits until we've seen them?' Karen asked.

'Roll me through next door, mate,' said Dennis Crombie from his wheelchair, 'then you can go and find out.'

The cinema complex was thronged, as it was every Friday evening, making Karen pleased that she had booked the seats. And the beginning of the film was as realistic as every critic had described it: for the first twenty minutes and more, she felt as if she was half a century back in time, and on those Normandy beaches. In fact, neither

closed their eyes, but watched fascinated, hand squeezing hand involuntarily with each explosion, each awful on-screen death.

Eventually, Private Ryan saved, they emerged from the UCI complex impressed and emotionally sodden. 'It makes you feel lucky you didn't live in those times, doesn't it?' said Karen.

'Yeah,' the Australian replied, then smiled. 'Your place or yours?'

An hour later, they lay in the dark listening to the rain assaulting the bedroom window. 'Nice night, huh?' he whispered.

'In here, it is.' She slid even closer to him, drawing on his heat.

'Wayne,' she asked suddenly, 'where are we going with this thing?'

'Where would you like to go with it?'

'That's just it. I'm not exactly sure; I've never been in a relationship when I've thought further ahead than what I was going to give him for Christmas. Hell, I don't even know whether you'll be here for Christmas, but I find that I want you to be. On top of that I sort of think that I want you to be here next summer too. How long are you staying? When does Dennis's research end, and when do you have to take him back to Australia?'

She looked up, and saw him smile. 'It's just about over,' he said.

'But that doesn't mean we're going home yet. You've read about the world economic summit?'

'Read about it? I spend every day planning for it, vetting joumos and the like.'

'All's smooth I trust?'

'Yes. There will be so many security guys in that hall — all of them vetted, carrying guns and wearing their wee eagle badges — it should be the world's safest place for the duration.'

'Well I'm pleased to hear that,' he said, emphatically. 'The reason being that Dennis has been asked to join the Iranian delegation to the summit, as an adviser. As usual, I'll be rolling him in there.'

'That's quite an honour for him.'

'Too damn right. It also means that the Iranians are paying our expenses from now to the end of the conference, not to mention a fat fee.'

'That's great… but once it's over?'

He settled down into the bed. 'Afterwards? Well, neither of us have any close ties back in Oz, so… hell, it would be a shame to pass up a chance to live through a Scottish Hogmanay.'

She hugged him, tight. 'After that, mind,' he added, holding her off for a moment, 'I have to go back to the rig. But since all my work is offshore, I have decent leave intervals, fares paid to wherever I want to go. There's no reason why I can't spend my time off here.

'Why don't we plan next year on that basis, and see how it goes?'

She wrapped herself around him once more. 'Why don't we just do that,' she murmured. 'You know, Wayne, you really are a lovely man.'